


Portia and the Governness

by joyce



Category: Lady Julia Grey Mysteries
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyce/pseuds/joyce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Portia Bettiscombe considers that it might be time to move on from her beloved Jane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Portia and the Governness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lysimache](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysimache/gifts).



> The prompt here was "I *adored* that Raybourn included a (totally accepted) lesbian among Julia's vast and quirky family (historical plausibility aside). But then I was sad when Jane ran away to marry a boy, and *REALLY* sad when Raybourn killed her off. So! Fix it, please? I want a story where Portia finds somebody new to be a happy, angst-free Victorian lesbian with. No het, obviously, please!"
> 
> I haven't actually made it to the pairing yet, but I have a pretty good inkling of what's next. :)

“Now, Portia. You’ve poured me tea, you’ve fed me cookies, and we’ve had a nice chat about nothing. I did not come here to talk about nothing. Why are you so unhappy lately?” Brisbane and I had been in Germany, attending to investigative matters and tying up loose ends from a previous case, but Portia’s letters had sounded more pensive the longer we’d been gone. As soon as we’d returned, I’d made it my business to visit her. 

Portia pondered for a long moment. “What makes you think I’m unhappy?” I glared at her, and she sighed, finally replying, “It’s just that… it’s such a cliché. It’s the governess.”

I choked on my tea, and then considered this conversational turn. “The governess? I don’t follow. What governess? What happened to Nanny Stone? Does Jane the Younger need a nurse and a governess? She’s still very small.” My sister’s former companion Jane had married and moved to India to pursue having a family; however, she had passed away as a result of child birth. We – my husband and I, Portia, and our brother Plum – had been in India to attend to some troubling circumstances involving Jane. Thus, Portia had returned to England with Jane the younger (as Portia insisted on calling her), and was raising Jane the Younger as her own daughter. Which, in a way, Jane was.

“Oh, Nanny is still with us, but Jane the Younger is done nursing. Nanny Stone may well soon wish to return to India, though if she wants to stay here we shall of course find a place for her.”

“And, the governess?”

Portia brightened a bit. “I have read that it’s better for children if they imprint on their governess early.” Portia was determined to raise Jane the younger to the best modern standards.

I paused and collected my thoughts. “So. You hired a governess while Brisbane and I were in Germany. But what does the governess have to do with you being so sad, and why is it a cliché?”

Portia glowered as quickly as she’d brightened, and said through clenched teeth: “I. Have. An… affection. For my child’s governess. Really, Julia, must you always be this slow?

I cleared my throat. “All things considered, Portia, are you really worried about it being a cliché?”

“But it is. A cliché. The governess? It’s practically common.” Portia wrinkled her nose. Marches were a peculiar mix of egalitarian and snobby, and Portia was not immune; insisting that having an affection for her governess would be common was just the sort of assertion she would make. She considered her statement while scratching Mr. Pugglesworth, her ridiculous pug, absentmindedly. He really was gross; he was moist, much like babies, but Portia loved him. “Affection or not, I’m not sure I can...” She drifted off.

I pressed my point. “Marches have done worse. I married someone in trade.” 

“Which you wouldn’t have done if a silver mine hadn’t conveniently made him a rich man. And don’t allow him hear you calling him ‘worse’, dearest.”

I carried on. “Perhaps. Perhaps I would have found a way to marry him anyhow.” Portia snorted, and I interrupted, “But still. And then there’s Plum…”

“Don’t even mention to me our brother and his romantic disasters.” Portia made another face. She and Plum were on the outs again, for reasons I didn’t entirely follow.

“And there’s Father and Fleur. Or was.” I once again felt a pang of guilt at being glad that their _affaire_ had ended, but I glad I was.

“But that was just an affair.”

“Precisely! Marches are not the most conventional in romance. An affair might do you some good, dear sister. You’ve been alone for far too long. Jane would want you to be happy.”

Portia pursed her lips, trying to decide on a response, before settling on, “But perhaps I don’t want an affair. Affairs are, after all, easy enough to pursue. I grow weary of affairs.”

I had not considered that my sister might have resumed … companionship, after Jane. “Oh. Well. Ahem. Well, you and Jane were settled down together for many years. Even if you couldn’t marry, you have practically done it before.” That my sister had had the wherewithal to maintain a long-standing relationship with another woman and still participate in society spoke to the force of Portia’s personality. She could do it again, should she so desire. “Have you and … oh, I can’t keep calling her the governess, what is the poor thing’s name?”  
Before Portia could answer, there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Portia called. A lovely young woman and my niece entered; well, my niece toddled. She drooled markedly less than she had when she was first born, but I still was not entirely sure what to do with children, and was desperately looking forward to the future, when she was older, less damp, and we could engage in shopping and the theater together.

For a few minutes, we made polite conversation with Jane the younger – as much as she could converse – and the governess, Lenore. She seemed a perfectly pleasant, well bred young woman, and I could understand Portia’s attraction to her (as much as I could, at least). Once my obligatory visit with my niece was over, Lenore gracefully ushered herself and Jane the Younger back out, murmuring about a walk in the park.

I stared at my sister. “You’re glowing.”

“I am not,” Portia bristled.

“You are! I haven’t seen you glow like this since. Well. Since you met Jane.” We sipped our tea for a moment, and then I opened my mouth again. “She glows around you too.”

“Don’t be absurd, Julia. There’s no way to know if she even… if she cares for…”

My sister was being far more reticent about her romantic life than normal, so I finally interjected “Women?”

“Yes!”

“Trust me, dear sister – Lenore glows around you too.”

I’d never seen Portia quite so flustered as now, when she went on, “But what if you’re wrong? What if I approach her somehow – I don’t even know how yet – and she’s not… and then I’m her employer, and… oh. No. This is the back end of beyond. I won’t.”

“But you will, dear sister. You’re a March – we always figure out something.”

Portia smiled. “She is lovely, isn’t she? And I do care for her, quite a bit. Do you really think, dearest?”

I smiled. Once I had made up my mind, I almost always won.


End file.
